


Quiet

by justalittlegreen



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Blowjobs, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, PWP, R&R, Smut, cocksucking, inexperienced Trapper, soft trapper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:55:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22982071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justalittlegreen/pseuds/justalittlegreen
Relationships: "Trapper" John McIntyre & Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce, "Trapper" John McIntyre/Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce
Comments: 5
Kudos: 44





	Quiet

"Shut _up_ ," Trapper muttered, resisting the urge to pinch Hawkeye somewhere sensitive so he'd stop _giggling_ like that. 

His tone gave Hawkeye pause. "Hey," he whispered, "Nobody can hear us, remember?" He reached over his head and rapped on the hotel room wall. "See? Wood, not canvas."

Trapper followed his gaze, then looked slowly back at Hawkeye, raising an eyebrow. "You're louder than you think when you're drunk," he said. "I'm just trying to keep us from getting arrested on multiple charges."

"Okay, okay," Hawkeye said, reaching across the inches between them. "If I promise to keep it down to a dull roar, will you come over here?"

John paused. They'd been whispering about this for weeks, letting the promise of this trip to Seoul fuel their decidedly rush-and-fumble encounters in Supply. Now that it was here, though - Hawkeye, just half an arm's length away from him, still dressed, even - brought things into a sharper light.

Hawkeye frowned at the look in Trapper's eyes. "Hey," he said softly. "It's just me. No boogeymen here." He rolled toward John, leaning in to whisper into his ear. "I've been thinking about this for weeks," he admitted. "Haven't you?"

John nodded just enough for Hawk to feel it. "Go on," he whispered back.

"Every time I've felt a rack of specimen bottles digging into my back, I've imagined what it'd be like to have you in a real bed," Hawkeye continued. "I keep thinking - if it's that good in ten minutes with no sleep and just your hands in my pants, what happens when I get you fully rested?"

"Or fully naked," Trapper finished for him, a smile playing across his lips. "So, what happens?"

"You wanna find out?"

Trapper took a deep breath and nodded again. "You gotta know, Hawk - I don't know much more than what you've already - "

"Well," Hawkeye interrupted, putting his hand on John's shoulder and sliding it down to his hip before hooking a finger in his waistband, "first we gotta get rid of these."

"I don't know if I'm up for that yet," Trapper said quickly. "Can't we just - take it slow?"

"Oh sure, sure," Hawkeye soothed. "But I suspect you'll find the situation - " he let his hand fall across Trapper's front, pressing his fingertips to Trapper's fly - "more comfortable in less formal attire."

"I'll make that call, thanks," said Trapper. 

"Suit yourself," Hawkeye said, tilting his head up for a kiss. Trapper obliged, meeting Hawk's open mouth with his own. They kissed slowly, more deeply than their trysts in the shed had ever allowed for. Hawkeye slipped a hand around the back of Trapper's head and cupped it - not pulling, not directing, just holding him there. 

John liked it more than he would ever admit to - being held like that. He wasn't a big kisser, normally, eager to get on with things. But kissing Hawkeye tasted like scotch and promises. And Hawkeye didn't kiss like any woman he'd ever known, confident, assured, his tongue finding his way into John's mouth and making him open for it. 

He was beginning to see Hawkeye's point about his pants.

He pulled away briefly, just long enough to gesture to his waistband and roll onto his back, but Hawkeye followed, panting, reaching for John's fly. 

"Let me," he whispered. 

Trapper folded his hands behind his head and grinned. "Be my guest."

Hawkeye got to his knees and threw a leg over John's hips. For a moment, he just held himself there, looking down at Trapper, his face obscured in shadow. He put a hand on Trapper's chest and drew it down slowly, making Trapper's stomach clench in exquisite anticipation. Finally, he shuffed backwards far enough to get his hands on Trapper's buttons and slowly unbuttoned him, pulling his pants and shorts over his hips in one motion.

Trapper fought the urge to squirm as Hawkeye's gaze shifted down. It's not that he'd ever been self conscious about himself - more than one woman had gasped upon seeing his size for the first time - but he was so unaccustomed to being the center of someone's attention like that. 

"Trap," Hawkeye said, his voice low and dangerously quiet. "What exactly were you hoping for, uh, here?"

Trapper leaned up on his elbows. "I thought you were supposed to be the expert. You tell me!"

"Well," Hawkeye said, his head still bent towards Trapper's hips, "You uh, ever had somebody go to their knees for you?"

"You mean like - what do you mean?"

Hawkeye moved further back, taking John's pants with him, until he was off the bed entirely. "Sit up," he said. "I'll show you what I mean."

Trapper sat up, moving to the edge of the bed when Hawkeye gestured. Now Hawkeye knelt between his legs, his lips just inches away from - oh. _Oh._

"Like this, Trap?" Hawkeye said, so close to his skin that Trapper could feel his breath. He bit back a groan. 

"No," he whispered.

Hawkeye looked up immediately. "No?" he asked, sitting back on his heels. 

"No, no!" Trapper said, reaching for Hawkeye's head and trying to motion him back. "I mean no, I've never, not no, I don't want."

The grin on Hawkeye's face could've melted him. "So you want?" Hawkeye asked.

"If you're offering - " Trapper swallowed, " - what I think you're offering."

Hawkeye bent his head and kissed him, then slipped his tongue in a slow circle. Trapper leaned back on his hands and hissed. Fuck. _Fuck_. There was something different about this - more intimate, even more than the night they'd made Becky. And that night, he'd cried in front of Louise for the first time, struck by it all. 

Not that he'd ever admit it to Hawkeye, though he seemed doomed to a repeat performance. Hawkeye seemed to know a thousand ways to make him feel good, his mouth so warm and wet, so yielding. He wanted to close his eyes, but couldn't take his gaze off the top of Hawkeye's bobbing head. 

"Damnit, Hawk," he muttered. "How'd you get so good at this?" he said, desperately trying for a joke, anything to break the growing tension.

Hawkeye paused and looked up, his eyes dark and serious. "It helps," he said slowly, "when your mouth is full of a guy you'd die for."

"Careful," Trap teased. "It feels like you might be tryin'a kill me."

Hawkeye winced. "This a joke to you?" he demanded. "Just a good time to laugh about later, when you're six drinks in and laughing about crazy things you tried once?"

Trapper sobered instantly. "No," he said. "No, no, Hawk. No. Not like that. Not like that, I promise." He reached a hand out to cup the side of Hawkeye's face, stroking his thumb over Hawk's cheek. "No this is - " he fumbled for the right words. "This is a gift, okay? I'm over my head and a little out of my mind, but I'm not, uh, taking this for granted," he finished.

Hawkeye visibly relaxed, leaning in to flutter a kiss against the inside of his thigh. "Okay," he muttered. "You want me to keep going?"

"Please." 

Hawkeye didn't waste any time, licking John all the way up and down his length, sucking as much as he could into his mouth. Trapper forced his hips to stay still, trying not to make too much noise, but one particular swipe of Hawkeye's tongue prompted a, "Fuck! Oh _fuck_!" He screwed his eyes shut and panted, shuddering as Hawkeye brought him so close to the edge he thought he might pass out.

"Shhhhh," he heard Hawkeye say, feeling his breath on wet, sensitive skin. "Can't wake the neighbors," he teased, the grin evident in his voice.

Trapper opened his eyes and looked down. The light from the street came at just the right angle to catch their faces. Hawkeye's smile melted when he saw John's face, sweat-broke, wild-eyed, open. Vulnerable, even. "Trap," he murmured, reaching for Trapper's hand. "I've got you."

"Glad somebody does," Trapper managed. "I just - I don't - that - "

Hawkeye's smile came back. "That good, eh?"

Trapper tried to say _the best I've ever felt_ but the words wouldn't come. He tried to plead with his eyes, make Hawkeye understand. Hawkeye stood up, pushed a little on Trapper's shoulders until he understood enough to scoot back. Hawkeye crawled up onto the bed with him, pushing and guiding until they were lying next to one another again, lips brushing lips. 

"This isn't just fun, is it?" Hawkeye said quietly. "This means something to you."

John nodded just enough to be understood.

"It isn't just me, is it."

Trapper paused, feeling the rusty resistance of a door he'd slammed shut too many years ago. 

"S'ok if I'm not special," Hawkeye said, the self-deprecation offering Trapper a way out, but he couldn't let Hawkeye think that. He shook his head resoundingly. 

"You are," he managed, pressing his hips against Hawkeye's, feeling exactly how much Hawkeye had been enjoying the evening's activities. "Oh, Hawk..."

"Like what you, uh, feel?" Hawkeye asked. 

"Yeah," John breathed. "Do you want - how do you, uh, proceed from here?"

"Well," Hawkeye said, reaching a hand between them and tracing his fingers lightly over Trapper's aching, leaking, cock, "I could finish what I was doing before. Or," he said, wrapping a hand around the two of them together, "we could try this."

Trapper tried to breathe evenly. "This - this feels good," he finally forced out.

Hawkeye laughed, but in a gentle way that filled Trapper's chest. "Good thing I'm right-handed," he said as he started increasing the speed of his stroke. Trapper pressed his head against the sheets and tried to hang on, not wanting to finish ahead of Hawkeye, but he'd had far too much of a head start. He clung to the pillow over his head, to Hawkeye's back, digging his fingernails in and muffling grunts into Hawkeye's shoulder, hearing the increasingly frenetic breath at his ear. 

"Damnit, Trap, I'm so close - "

"Me too," Trapper cried in a whisper. "Me, too - _unh_ " 

His hips jerked as he came apart, vaguely aware of Hawkeye's teeth at his shoulder, ears filled with a roar of pleasure from a source he couldn't name. 

Hawkeye was the first to pull away, rolling onto his back and grabbing his undershirt to wipe his hand on. John followed, rolling onto his stomach, throwing a leg over Hawkeye's.

Hawkeye turned and kissed the top of his head. "How's that for an audition to the Tuesday night pervert's club?"

At a complete loss for words, Trapper managed a thumbs-up, waving his hand hear Hawkeye's face. Hawkeye's chuckle was low and warm. "C'mon, let's get some covers on you."

"Nope. Can't move."

"Well, all right then," Hawkeye said, smoothing a hand over Trapper's hair, and settling in for at one night that promised no further interruptions.


End file.
